


serve us gold cups of nectar mixed neatly with pleasure

by lulla_lunekjaer



Category: Ecce Romani
Genre: (something I never thought I'd tag), Ancient Rome, F/F, Fluff and Angst, I wrote this for a Latin project, POV First Person, Wish me luck, kind of?, like I'm actually going to turn it in, vintage lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulla_lunekjaer/pseuds/lulla_lunekjaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you know,” she asked me one day, “that in my tutor’s translation of the Iliad, Achilles and Patroclus are in love?”<br/>“In love?” I asked, “How in love?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Sappho, the original vintage lesbian. 
> 
> (Happy Birthday, Rain!)

“Did you know,” she asked me one day, “that in my tutor’s translation of the Iliad, Achilles and Patroclus are in love?”

“In love?” I asked, “How in love?” We were sitting beneath that ancient pine in the last lazy summer of our lives. Little did we know of what would come. She rolled over, twirling a flower above her head.

“In love like how they’re always in love, in the myths. Like Odysseus and Penelope. Hero and Leander. Orpheus and Eurydice.” She laughed at me. “Cornelia, ‘in love’ simply means in love. There is no right or wrong way about it.”

We stayed silent for a moment after that, watching the clouds. She adjusted the crown of flowers she had made earlier on my head. The birds sang and it seemed like all the world was beautiful just for us, just for this one heavenly day.

“Flavia-”

“Cornelia-”

We started at the same time, each cutting off the other. She laughed again, hesitantly. “You first.”

I shakily began. “I’ll probably be married soon, Flavia. A political match. I can’t fall in love. It wouldn’t be - it wouldn’t be proper.”

“Since when have we cared about proper, Cornelia?” Now her crown was crooked, arms spread wide, proclaiming to the world. “And you don’t have to love him. It is, after all, only a political match.”

“But I’ll have to-”

“But maybe it doesn’t matter. You’re not married yet. You’re not even engaged. You’re still a girl in a lunula and toga praetexta. Marriage is,” Flavia sighed and tried to push her hair back, forgetting about the flower crown. It fell and as she bent over to pick it up, her toga billowing around her, I sent a prayer up to Juno to avert Jupiter’s eyes. He surely would have mistaken her for a nymph or minor goddess and taken her away from this earth, away from me.

“Marriage is far away, and we’re right here, right now. Look.” I looked. She held out her hand. The sun lit her up from behind, and I swear that in that moment, she must have been twice-blessed by Venus, because I’d never seen anything more beautiful in all the world. “We could even run away, Cornelia. Join a temple, flee to Greece. They say there’s an island where a poet lived, and she was like us. You wouldn’t have to get married, and I wouldn’t either, and we could just be together.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. I could only stare at her hand.

“They could catch us. We could be crucified.”

“That’s only for runaway slaves.”

“We’d never make it.”

“But we’d be free doing it.” I didn’t like the light in her eyes, or maybe I liked it too much.

Her hand was still there, waiting.

I took it. She spun me up from under the tree and we were dancing in the sunlight. The world had turned to gold while I wasn’t watching.

There was so little space between us. It could have been miles, but I would still be able to feel her there, closer than close. I was drawn to her, inexplicably, like a moth to a flame. She would be the end of me yet.

I kissed her, and the world stopped.

Oh, Flavia. There have never been words enough to describe you. I could never have tried. Love is impossible, abstract, undefined, but I knew it. Deep down, I always knew I loved you.

“Just promise me,” I begged her, “that you won’t leave without me. You’ll wait.”

She laughed and leaned across our intercrossed legs to kiss me again. “Of course. You’re the whole reason for the leaving.”

That was the last time I was happy. The next day, my mother told me were leaving for Rome. Within another month, I was engaged. This was all too fast, too fast. There was no time.

 

Whoever finds this, in the end, know that I didn’t want to have to do this. I could have been the perfect wife, obedient and willing, my weaving and lute playing beyond compare, but I loved her. I love her. I take with me only the things my mother bought for me. None of my nearly-husband’s things. No money that was not part of my dowry.

I’m sorry, but there could never be another way.

Vale.

 

Ubi tu Flavia, ego Cornelia!


	2. Cornelia Flaviae S.P.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this while going through my old school google account and thought I'd add it on for kicks. It's from three years ago and honestly has nothing to do with this actual fic. Just a fun extra.

Cornelia Flaviae S.P.D.

Hodie ante diem quattuor Idus Juniis. Invideor a tu quod esse ad villam rusticam tuam. Huc est calidior quam eo. Doleo audire de ancillam tuam qua effugebat. Erat grata ad me cum eram ad villam rusticam me. Ego volo fidelis erat causa ancillae mea. Laborans est in tunicā albā meā. Facet flammeum me ab matre ipsa. Ego laetissimus sum illa tu eris curans nuptias meas. Tempus fugit! Desidabo tu cum sum virgo non. Spero illa possetis videro saepe omnes nos. Fortasse possar pronubam at nuptias te.

Vale!

 

Cornelia sends fondest greetings to Flavia

Today is June Ninth. I am being envious of you because you are at your country house and villa. It is hotter here than there. I am sorry to hear about your slavewoman who ran away. She was pleasing to me when I was at my country house. I wish she had been as faithful as my slavewoman. I have been working on my white tunic [for my wedding]. My orange veil has been made by my mother herself. I am the most happy that you will attending my wedding. Time has flown! I will miss you when I am no longer a maiden. I hope that we will be able to see each other often. Perhaps someday I will be able to be a married attendant at your wedding. 

Farewell!

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for Latin class and I had to turn it in. We'll see how it goes. 
> 
> [edit] I got 100% on it aahhhhhhh!!!


End file.
